


False Bluffs

by kamin



Series: The Real Kind of Pretend [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2014-06-13
Packaged: 2018-02-04 12:36:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1779355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamin/pseuds/kamin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most of the time, he acted on instinct: Aomine just let his body move according to his impulses, and it’s pretty much worked out for him just fine, both in basketball and out. He just found these impulses to have been slightly more confusing when it came to Kise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Bluffs

**Author's Note:**

> Basically Aomine's POV from [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1692389). In which we see what was going on in Aomine's head, along with some anecdotes of his troubles, and what actually happened behind Kise's curtains that evening. It's actually fun to compare this POV with the original one (which was more Kise-centric), so I recommend you have them both open while reading, to see all the differences and similarities that these dorks share ;)

Aomine was always one to rely on actions more than words—words were tricky, and putting them together was always a puzzle that could have more than a thousand combinations and _still_ be wrong (why try to struggle with putting together arguments against someone if you could, say, punch them in the face? Aomine found that to be a less troublesome approach, really).

Most of the time, he acted on instinct: Aomine just let his body move according to his impulses, and it’s pretty much worked out for him just fine, both in basketball and out. He just found these impulses to have been slightly more confusing when it came to Kise. Sure, he’d done a bunch of fist bumps with Tetsu, and he more or less collided with whole teams on the court, but he’d always find himself suddenly wrapping an arm around Kise’s shoulders, or getting into brawls with him, and always trying to touch his hair—he would have done them all reflexively, and by the time he’d realize it, he’d catch himself smiling.

There was that one time, though, after their match at Inter-High, Aomine had this overwhelming urge to walk towards Kise, collapsed on the ground, and offer his hand to him. He wanted to tell him that it was a good match. That he wanted to play again. That it was _fun_. But he had to force himself to turn around ( _“Even you’ll fly into a rage if I try to console you after I win against you, right?” he had told Imayoshi, fists clenched at his sides),_ and walked away. It was one of the few times he let his head stop what his body wanted to do, and the first time he’d done that because of Kise. He didn’t get it, and it chewed at him for _days_.

And that other time, when he had waited after Haizaki, knowing that the bastard would try something after losing to Kise, Aomine presumed that it was another impulse on his part—at least until he’d punched Haizaki square in the jaw, and realized that he was doing it for Kise.

“Isn’t it because you like him?” Satsuki said nonchalantly, slurping on her drink.

Aomine started choking on his.

“What?” She raised an eyebrow, then gaped at him, jaw falling open. “What, you mean you don’t _know_?”

“Don’t know _what_ ,” Aomine grunted, clearing his throat with water. “That I— _like_ Kise? Like… _like_ like?”

“Wow, that was way too redundant,” Satsuki stifled her laugh. “Do you realize you just said ‘like’ _three_ times in a row?” Aomine fixed her a look, and she sighed. “You know, I _thought_ it would be something like this.”

Aomine was getting even more confused, and his confusion is usually proportional to his annoyance. “ _What?_ Like _what?_ ” he snapped.

“You being slow, as usual,” Satsuki said, chewing on a french fry. “In the head, I mean.”

“The _fuck_ ,” Aomine snarled.

Satsuki shoved a french fry in his mouth. “Figure it out yourself, Dai-chan,” she smirked, and then did some weird impression with a lowered voice. “ _Search your feelings_ , you _know_ it to be true.”

“Search my—” Aomine gave up, smacking a hand over his face.

“You’re supposed to scream ‘Nooooo~’ somewhere after that,” Satsuki chuckled.

He groaned.

 

* * *

 

 

It was no use trying to figure out something that needed more thought than Aomine wanted to muster up, so when he agreed to hang out with Kise one Saturday, even though it wasn’t for basketball, he figured it to have been just another one of his impulses. He didn’t even know _why_ he agreed when all Kise said was that they were gonna spend some time together, but at least it gave him something to do on Saturday.

“Aominecchi!” Kise called, jogging over to where Aomine stood.

“Yo,” he said, noticing how Kise wore some pretty stylish clothing, looking like the model he was. “You going on a date?”

Kise laughed. “Yeah, with you.”

Aomine raised an eyebrow, then stood away from the wall he was leaning on as they walked, sides lightly brushing each other.

“I’m gonna make you _so_ happy you agreed to come today,” Kise giggled.

“Then where’s the basketball?” Aomine muttered, and Kise just laughed again. And it sounded like music to Aomine’s ears, as he glanced at him, stupid bright happy grin spread over his face. He smacked a hand over Kise’s face. ”Stop smiling like an idiot,” he said, but he was smirking too.

Kise flailed against his hand, still laughing, looking giddy and excited. Aomine wondered just what exactly was making Kise so damn excited he was practically _glowing_ , even though they weren’t in any way headed to a street court.

And then it turned out that Kise had hauled him off to some sort of shoot, and apparently with _Horikita_ fucking _Mai_ , and his mind just sort of short-circuited.

“Holy fuck, is this _real_ ,” Aomine breathed, hand searching for something to hold on and finding Kise’s arm. “Are you kidding me right now.”

“It’s the real deal,” Kise beamed, smug. “I’m having a shoot with Horikita Mai.”

Aomine just stared. “ _Damn_.”

The light music escaped Kise’s lips again, and Aomine felt more grounded as he heard it. His fingers lightly hovered over Kise’s arm, side brushing against him, and he didn’t look away from Horikita Mai as he gasped, “Oh my god, _Kise._ I think I love you.”

The words came tumbling out without warning, and it took a few moments for Aomine to realize what he’d just said. They all flowed out so naturally, so instinctively, that it felt like the slip heaved off a weight that Aomine didn’t realize had been bearing down on him. Like a big-ass curtain was pulled over his eyes and everything was suddenly bright and clear as day. He was brought short by it, abruptly understanding that the words that came tripping out of his lips were, in fact, somehow true.

He was stunned silent by the sudden realization, and it probably sounded like a joke to Kise, seeing as he was laughing breathlessly at his side (and that Aomine was still looking in the direction of Horikita Mai’s breasts, though he wasn’t exactly _looking_ at anything then), but the way he felt a swell of warmth at his chest as he heard Kise’s laugh and saw his smile that almost made him _wince_. The feeling reminded him of that tightening fist around his heart when he’d find a strong opponent and thoroughly have fun in a match. Or when Tetsu declared to him that he wouldn’t quit basketball even when a coach had told him to give up. Or that time when Kise focused completely on him, watching Aomine, and then copied his play style when they first went against each other at Inter-High. When right in the thick of the match, Kise had looked at him with _concern,_ and it struck a bolt of anger through Aomine— _why the_ _hell_ would Kise still have the time to be worried about _him_ when they were in the middle of a match? When Kise was obviously pushing himself too hard to copy his play style? When he still pushed on while his legs were giving out? It drove Aomine furious, and that invisible fist tightened around his heart as he gritted his teeth, feeling the familiar rush of playing against his former-teammate, his confused jumble of emotions struggling between irritation and actually having _fun,_ and wanting to chuck the ball at the scoreboard timer so that the game wouldn’t end and wanting to shove Kise into his bench so that he could _stop_ pushing himself like that.

But Aomine acted on instinct. It was the middle of a match with _Kise_ of all people and he was sweating a lot and he didn’t have any concentration to spare on trying to make sense of all those emotions. It was fucking confusing and was easier to just rely on his instincts and think about the consequences later. He had grinned when Kise managed to block his final dunk, but there was a basketball in between their hands, and Aomine acted without much thought wherever a basketball was concerned. And when Kise was on the ground, unable to stand up, Aomine felt those consequences chaining him where he stood, and it was then that he forced himself to turn around and walk away as Kise’s teammate was the one to hold out his hand to him.

Aomine didn’t understand how badly he wanted to be the one to reach out to him, and he was slowly coming to a certain degree of comprehension after he’d almost haphazardly confessed just now. And he didn’t realize that he was clutching Kise’s sleeve until Kise had leaned in to speak into his ear, breath ticking the side of his face, and told him to _let go please_ as he peeled his fingers off of his arm.

And Aomine just stared at Kise as he stood to be photographed, the shoot taking on a natural setting where the sun was casting this brilliant halo of gold all over Kise, making him _glow_. The photographers were telling the two models to make some serious faces, and Aomine reflexively tsked, making Kise blink at him and then break out into a smile. And it was dazzling, lighting up his features even more, completely charming everyone else, and no sooner were the photographers telling Kise to smile and laugh, and everytime Kise would catch Aomine looking at him as he did, he’d grin like an idiot, and Aomine found himself smiling back.

There was an announcement for a lunch break, and Kise bounded towards Aomine and dragged him towards Horikita Mai. “Horikita-san, this is Aominecchi!” Kise chirped. “He’s the one I was talking about!”

Horikita-san smiled, and Aomine was gaping at the two of them being damn adorable beside each other. “Kise-kun, I told you to call me ‘Mai-chan’, didn’t I?” then she turned to Aomine, and he swallowed. “Aomine-kun, right? Kise-kun told me so much about you! Kise-kun’s idol and close friend!”

Aomine stared at her, very slowly taking in the fact that the idol in his photobooks was standing right there, _not_ in a photobook. But all he seemed to hear was _Kise-kun_.

“Huh? Idol?” he blurted, feeling Kise’s grip on his arm going both tense and loose.

“M-Mai-chan!” Kise stuttered, a faint blush on his cheeks.

Mai-chan giggled. “He really admires you! And anyone who Kise-kun admires must be a really wonderful person.” She stuck her hand out. “I’m Horikita Mai. You can call me Mai-chan! It’s nice to meet you!”

Aomine was lost at ‘ _He really admires you’_ , and was sent in for a mental tumble when Mai-chan said he was a wonderful person. A _really_ wonderful person. Aomine felt Kise’s hand lift his up to meet Mai-chan’s, and the contact anchored him to reality. “Mai…-chan,” Aomine tried, feeling his face heat up slightly. “It’s—really nice to meet you too. Damn.”

Mai-chan giggled again, flashing another glittering smile. Beside him, Kise was grinning like a stupid idiot and hugging his arm, and it somehow felt like home.

Aomine smiled at that, and the other two looked at him in wonder, seeing his expression almost glowing with a happiness that did wonders to his face.

They had lunch together, and Aomine found himself falling into the swing of being normal—or as normal as he could manage when he was with his favorite idol and a model he could call his friend (and just inadvertently confessed to). When Mai-chan was leaning to his side as she asked for a picture of the three of them, Aomine felt his heart skip a beat. When Kise, on his other side, wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned close to smile right beside his face, Aomine’s mind sort of shut down, and he practically spat out a “Can I have a copy of that,” immediately after, and Kise was smiling so stupidly with open satisfaction as if he won something, making Aomine dub the day as one of the best non-basketball-involved days of his life—except maybe for the fact that he was still really fucking confused about his sudden sort-of-confession.

And Aomine found himself reaffirming that he was _not_ , in fact, one to be on the thinking side, at least when it wasn’t about basketball. He wished that he could just ball up all his thoughts and feelings and dribble it across the court, dunk it through the hoop and somehow solve everything right there. But obviously he couldn’t do that, so he opted for the next best thing—play actual basketball.

In the following weeks, Aomine played with Kagami on the street courts, and he had a damn good time, especially when Tetsu was around, but he never impulsively wrapped his arms around their shoulders, or wanted to hug them in the middle of the court—heck, he didn’t even want to randomly hang out with them if it didn’t involve basketball. But when Kise called him back then, even when it had nothing at all to do with basketball or buying basketball shoes or anything of the sort, Aomine still went to see him. And skin contact was a normal part of basketball, so he never bat an eyelash about it, but he didn’t know why he felt these weird tingles when Kise would hold his arm or shoulders.

“Goddammit this isn’t working out,” Aomine muttered, dumping the basketball shoes in his hands back on the shelf.

“What have you been _thinking_ about for so long, Dai-chan?” Satsuki said beside him. “You barely _think_. What’s wrong? Do you have a fever?”

Aomine growled at her, scratching the back of his head in frustration and dodging her attempts at putting a hand over his forehead to check for a fever. “I don’t have a fever, dammit. This is because of you and that dumbass.”

“ _What?_ ” Satsuki pouted. “What did _I_ do? What dumbass?”

They exited the shop and turned in the direction of a nearby street court. “You remember that time you did some stupid impersonation of the Star Trek dude?”

“Impersonation?” Satsuki cocked her head to the side. “Star Trek?”

Aomine huffed. “You know, the ‘ _search your feelings’_ bullshit.”

Satsuki looked aghast, smacking his arm. “That’s Star _Wars!_ Don’t you _dare_ get that wrong!”

Aomine threw his hands up. “Whatever!”

“You mean that thing about Ki-chan?” Satsuki raised an eyebrow. “Did you finally figure it out?”

“Figure _what_ out,” Aomine groaned, putting a hand over his face. “I’m fucking confused. I don’t like thinking.”

“What’s new,” Satsuki smirked. “He dragged you out to his shoot right? Was it then?”

“Was _what_ then?” Aomine grumbled, side-eyeing her.

“Well, you made your cellphone wallpaper that picture with you, Ki-chan and that idol, but not even _half_ of the idol’s breasts are seen so you shouldhave _at least_ realized _something_.”

“How did you—” Aomine started, and then gave up—Satsuki’s methods of data gathering was something he didn’t want to know. He groaned again. “I don’t even know why I did that.”

“Of course you don’t,” Satsuki nodded. “’Cause you’re slow. You’ll understand eventually. Maybe. Hm. I’m actually not sure.”

“Why don’t you give me some kind of fucking _hint_?” Aomine grumbled. “It’s like my fucking first time falling in love and—”

Satsuki’s eyes went wide, mouth falling open with a small gasp. And Aomine caught himself up short, hearing what he’d just said and knowing the truth in those words. A lump seemed to form in his throat, and he felt his body lose energy. “Oh shit,” he breathed, finding a convenient bench and dropping into it.

Satsuki looked at him with tears in her eyes, like she was some kind of proud mom with her hands on her lips and a sparkle in her face. She laid a hand on Aomine’s shoulder as he just stared into space.

“Fuck. I _like_ him—?” Aomine breathed, feeling something heavy diving into his gut. “I— _really_ like him. _Fuck_.”

Satsuki squealed, unable to contain it anymore, smacking Aomine’s shoulder repeatedly. “This is _so_ amazing. I can’t believe you just figured it out. Oh my god. _Dai-chan_. Wow. I’m so happy for you two.”

Aomine weakly looked up at her. “The fuck do you mean—‘ _you two’_? _I’m_ the fucking confused one here.”

Satsuki giggled, wiping the tears at the corners of her eyes. “ _Wow_. This is the best. Don’t worry Dai-chan, I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

“ _What way?_ ” Aomine whined, dropping his face into his hands. Satsuki gave a light squeal of delight again and rubbed his back far too enthusiastically.

“You act without thinking, so I’m sure it’ll work out, Dai-chan,” she said, beaming. “Just be normal.”

Aomine sighed, standing up. He figured that he should just stop thinking about it. It made him feel abnormally tired, and he really only just wanted simple things, so trying to delve into the details was a fucking headache.

“Just—give me a basketball,” he groaned.

 

* * *

 

The next day, at school, Aomine couldn’t sleep on the rooftop. He had busied himself with browsing through the magazine that featured Kise and Mai-chan’s shoot, and then just dropped the magazine on his face, under the spread where Kise was pictured laughing with that stupid grin and dazzling halo of gold. He remembered how he had snorted when Kise tried to make a joke then, and Kise caught it, bursting into laughter right when the photographers snapped that shot. Aomine gave a sigh, shutting his eyes and trying to will himself to sleep, just as his phone started ringing.

He almost cursed when he saw that the caller was Kise, and sat up as he tucked the magazine closed into his bag. “What?” he answered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Aominecchi!” Kise’s voice came, cheery as always. “Wanna come over to Kaijo?”

“Huh?” Aomine’s brows furrowed. “To your school?”

“Yeah! Let’s meet up!”

“ _Why_.”

“Aw, come on!” Aomine could hear Kise’s pout. “Let’s hang out! At least for a little bit! Remember how you agreed to hang out with me like a month ago and got to meet Mai-chan because of it—“

“Yeah yeah, of _course_ I remember,” Aomine muttered, the memory making him feel a happy fondness over remembering it. “Alright, _fine_. I’ve got time anyway. See you later, I guess.”

“ _Yay_!! See you, Aominecchi!”

He heard a click, and Aomine found himself smirking, and then sighed again as he fell back to lie on the ground. This time he felt lighter, and as he looked up at the clouds gently floating along their merry way, sleep slowly came over him, his eyes fluttering shut. And Aomine dreamt of golden halos and musical laughter, and a bright smile that chuckled against his lips, sending his chest skittering with warmth.

 

* * *

 

 

Aomine’s dream became longer and more vivid and fucking felt like a punch to the gut when he woke up to find that it wasn’t real. The image of Kise hovering over him stayed under his eyelids, and he cursed under his breath when that smile faded away as he cracked his eyes open to the more unforgiving blaze of the sun.

The sound of shuffling and distant chatter made him aware that classes had ended for the day. He hauled himself up, and figured that he might as well head on over to Kaijo while Satsuki wasn’t there to rattle on about attending practice. It didn’t take long to reach the school, but it was fucking gigantic, and so he got quite wonderfully lost just five minutes in. He was lucky enough to spot a basketball being carried by some tiny freshman, and trudged over to get the kid to bring him to the gym.

“A-Aominecchi?!” Kise blurted as Aomine entered, and then was crashed into by a teammate. They fell to the ground in a heap of flailing limbs, and Aomine raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Yo,” he said. Kise stood up and stared, and Aomine almost laughed at his stupid face and how he wanted to get closer to it. To one side, the Kaijo team capatin grunted, and then yelled at Aomine in a challenge—for practice, he said. Aomine glanced at Kise, whose eyes seemed to light up at the prospect of playing with him, and Aomine didn’t really feel like playing until he saw that stupid eager face, so he shrugged.

They were better competition than he expected, but Kise was still the best. At least when playing, he could just leave it to himself to get sucked into the rhythm of basketball, and it felt like the old times when Kise would keep asking him to play over and over and over again. And now Kise was still standing, eyes intent with the look that sent surges of energy through Aomine. He found himself unable to hold back, and blew right past Kise for the nth time that hour and flew to the hoop for a dunk. When he turned, he was grinning, and Kise’s tired out face lit back up in that same way that meant that he wanted another rematch. “That was a good match,” Aomine said, ready with the basketball on his finger.

Kise’s eyes lit up even more, sparkling with open joy and enthusiasm. Aomine frowned, that invisible fist tightening around his heart again. “Don’t let it get to your head, dumbass. You still lost, so stop it with the sparkles.”

That light music escaped Kise’s lips again, airy and flushed. Aomine snorted, and was suddenly surrounded by the Kaijo guys, who were yelling at him for another match. Aomine started arguing with them when he noticed a bespectacled Kaijo member whisper something to Kise, and no sooner was Kise walking towards the door of the gym, where a shadow stood outside.

“Kise’s stepping out for a bit,” the glasses guy who was good at defense—Nakamura—announced.

The captain, Kasamatsu, raised an eyebrow, glancing at the door where Kise was still visible through the opening. “Is it the guy?”

Nakamura nodded. “Looks like it. Seems like Kise will try to deal with it for now.”

“Deal with what? What guy?” Aomine was honestly curious.

“We’ll tell you after another match,” Moriyama huffed. “Five-point basket.”

Aomine squinted, but gave way, taking little time to score with a bunch of haphazard formless shots. When they had figured out how to defend a bit more sturdily, Aomine simply stepped back, gave a feint to shift their center of gravity, and jumped sideways in the opposite direction. He didn’t even need to see the hoop, just the corner of the backboard, and he chucked the ball towards it, knowing full well that the shot would go in.

“A-Aominecchi!” he heard Kise yell.

The ball went in, and the Kaijo regulars growled, getting into some kind of instantaneous team meeting that consisted of cursing at each other. Aomine shrugged, spinning around, and lightly skipped towards Kise, shoving his hands into his pockets.

As he got closer, he noticed some messed up-looking guy with a mohawk shrivelling up where he stood, glancing at Aomine with obvious shock. Aomine looked down at him, then turned to Kise. “What’s up?”

Kise bumped sides with him, and Aomine blinked, not quite processing that Kise had suddenly slid his hand into Aomine’s and linked them together. Kise leaned closer, and Aomine could feel the heat radiating off of him. He opened his mouth to say something— _what_ exactly, he wasn’t sure—but Kise squeezed his hand, sending these damn weird electric sparks up his arm, making him clamp his mouth shut. “I’m going out with him,” Kise said. “Sorry.”

The mohawk guy had an interesting range of facial expressions twisting up and about just then, and he looked like he wanted to attack them when he gritted his teeth and spat out, “O-okay.” He then turned on his heel and ran for it, yelling a curse to the sky.

And Aomine was still blinking, feeling Satsuki’s remark at him being slow stab at him with annoying accuracy. To the side, Kise exhaled out loud, slumping. “That was _really_ stressful,” he sighed.

“Kise…” Aomine drawled, the feeling of Kise’s hand on his making him tense.

Kise jumped back, releasing his hand, and blushed. “S-sorry Aominecchi! You see, someone’s been following me for a few days now. I think it was that guy just now. Fukuda.”

Aomine raised an eyebrow. “Following? Like a _stalker?_ ”

“Y-yeah. It’s been creeping me out, honestly. And then he just confessed to me.”

It felt like a brick was dropped down in Aomine’s gut. “Like a _love confession?_ Damn, even _guys_ are falling for you now, huh?” he almost wanted to laugh.

“I’m not sure what to think about that,” Kise groaned, covering his face with his hands.

Aomine wanted to shrug it off. Wanted _Kise_ to shrug it off. “Eh, just some more fans an’ shit.” He wanted to get back inside and just play basketball, which was much simpler than stupid feelings, when he remembered something Kise said. “But wait, what’s this about going out with me?”

Kise went back to being pink. “Sorry,” he groaned again. “He looks like a delinquent! If I told him I had a girlfriend, I don’t know _what_ he’d do to the girl. Then I saw you. I guess I thought that if it was a scary-looking guy like you, then he’d give up.”

“Scary-looking—why you—!” Aomine wanted to chuck a basketball at his stupid face.

Kise held his hands up. “Sorry, sorry! I meant intimidating! I thought he’d back down if he saw how much stronger you are.”

Aomine grumbled a sigh, scratching his head. He really wanted to stop fucking thinking about Kise like this, like the way he was in his dream. “Did you see the look in his eyes, though? He looks like the persistent type, that one.”

Kise grimaced, and then shook his head, breaking out into a smile. He seemed to light up again, and Aomine felt that throb in his chest all over again. “Aominecchi’s _strong_ right?” Kise grinned. “I’m sure you’d be able to deal with whatever he throws at you!”

“Tch,” Aomine spat, turning away from that stupid face. Nevermind the fact that Kise made a bluff about being fucking lovers to a stalker bastard. “You bet your ass I could, idiot. Now get back in and play another match with me.”

He waltzed back into the gym, and the Kaijo seniors started jabbing at him to play, and he focused on the warmth he felt where Kise held his hand as the light music of Kise’s laughter followed behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Aomine had written off that one time when Kise held his hand as a dream—just something he’d imagined that had happened when he first visited Kaijo—at least until he felt that strange rush of electricity shoot up his arm when Kise tangled their hands together again as they walked together.

“Holding my hand won’t make you any better at basketball, you know,” Aomine sighed, trying to make sense of the situation where Kise’s hand was wrapped around his.

“What if it _did_ though?” Kise chipped in, looking thoughtful. “What if I’m secretly draining your basketball powers.”

“Basketball powers. So I’m some sort of superhero.” Aomine was trying to distract himself from their hands, noticing a shadow stalking behind them.

“Alien. I think you mean alien.”

“Really? Are you sure I’m not just a superhero? I mean, look how awesome I am.” He almost shook his head. Aomine was trying to drag the conversation to a length where he could keep holding Kise’s hand, dammit.

“Nah, you’ve gotta be an alien. I don’t think anyone can be as obnoxious as you without having some kind of spuernatural help.”

A nerve snapped, and Aomine reflexively smacked Kise upside the head with his free hand. Kise squawked and staggered, then reeled towards Aomine, knocking his head right into his jaw. Aomine grunted, then pulled Kise where their hands were linked and bumped heads, forehead to forehead. The impact made a shuddering _thud_ reverberate through his skull, and they both found themselves falling butt-first to the ground with a yelp.

“God _damn_ your head’s a fucking _brick wall,_ ” Aomine groaned, firmly holding onto his throbbing forehead.

“Are you _serious? Your_ head felt like a metal bar!” Kise pulled his hand from Aomine’s to smack it over his head. “Owowow I think I’m _bleeding_ , damn.”

“What?” Aomine leaned over, grabbing Kise’s wrist. “Come on, it wasn’t _that_ hard.” He pulled Kise’s bangs over his forehead and inspected the slowly growing bump there. Kise winced, and Aomine wasn’t thinking when he impulsively leaned close to kiss his forehead.

“Did you just—” Kise started, looking up at him.

“You kiss injuries to make them feel better, right?” Aomine smirked, and for once the words that came tumbling out of his mouth made sense even without much prior thought. Kise just gaped at him, and Aomine lowered his hands to his lap.

“Oh my god,” Kise said after a few beats. “That was _so_ weird.”

“The _fuck_ ,” Aomine grumbled, lips quirking up. He flicked at Kise’s forehead without really thinking, and Kise doubled over again, smacking his hands over his forehead.

“Gah! Why on the same spot—!”

“Whoops, my bad. You were asking for it though—”

“Again!” Kise pouted.

“Huh?”

“Kiss it again!” Aomine was met with Kise’s intent stare and full-out pout, and he displayed his reddening forehead as a blush felt its way up Aomine’s cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something, but didn’t find any words, so his hand just moved on its own, pulling Kise closer as he softly pressed his lips on his forehead.

Kise fucking _blushed_ , and Aomine had to force himself to not stagger back.

“I knew it, this is embarrassing,” Kise muttered, hiding his eyes with his hair.

Aomine tsked and ruffled the top of Kise’s head, moving to stand up and shake off the blood that was boiling up his face. “ _Your_ fault you got yourself a stalker, dumbass.” He bent to reach out to Kise, looking away from his face to try to search for the stalker-bastard instead. “Is he still there?”

“Yeah, but I think he’s about to give up for the day. I saw him fuming just now.”

Aomine smirked, feeling triumphant over that stalker-bastard, who had the nerve to stalk _Kise_ of all people, and keep following the two of them while they were playing the pretend-boyfriend shit. He actually felt like it was fun, and it was snapping together the confused bits of Aomine’s head, as he just played along, relishing the damn weird situation while it lasted. It was probably gonna bite him in the ass at some point, when all the pretending was over and done with, but Aomine didn’t like thinking too far ahead, so he just fell into the natural swing of being with Kise, albeit with some added hand holding and annoying head butting.

 

* * *

 

 

“You look happier these days,” Satsuki grinned, hands linked behind her back.

Aomine frowned, fumbling with the basketball in his hand. “What.”

“Nothing, nothing,” Satsuki giggled. “I’m just glad you’re actually going to _practice_. Even if it’s at another school.”

Aomine huffed. “Those Kaijo guys aren’t much. Kise’s obviously their only saving grace there.”

“They’re lucky to have him.”

“Damn right,” Aomine puffed, and then grimaced. “Ugh. Damn.”

Satsuki giggled again. “You are _so_ smitten.”

“Shut up.”

They walked into Maji Burger and headed towards the counter for some new burger. On the way, Aomine spotted a flash of gold, and recognized Kise trying to cover himself up with a scarf and some large clothes. He immediately thought of surprising him from behind when Kagami, who was apparently seated across him, looked up at Aomine, and Aomine instantly chucked the basketball at his face. “Ah! Aomi— _blegh!_ ”

Behind him, Satsuki crashed into his back. “Dai-chan why did you suddenly stop!” she complained, trudging to his side.

“I saw a dumbass so I felt like hurling something at him.”

“Well fuck you too, asshole,” Kagami snapped. “Let’s take this outside, yeah? One-on-one!”

Aomine was about to lunge at the challenge when a stern voice spoke. “Kagami-kun, finish your food first.” Tetsu. Aomine rarely got surprised by his sudden appearances these days. “And then wait for at least half an hour before playing or you’ll get stomach problems. For which the coach will make you do extra training.”

“Try to eat like a proper being this time, dumbass.”

“That’s what I told him,” Tetsu said, nodding at Aomine.

“Kyaa! Tetsu-kun!” Momoi squealed. “And Ki-chan!”

Kise looked like he was busy with a burger, swallowing the last of it just then. “Momoicchi! And—Aominecchi?!”

“Yo,” Aomine said. “Didn’t think I’d see you here. We were supposed to meet _after_ lunch, right?”

Kise grimaced. “Yehah, about that—I saw _him_ when I opened by curtains today.”

A surge of irritation boiled up in Aomine’s chest. “Are you serious? That bastard—”

“Calm down Aominecchi! It’s okay! I just freaked out a bit, is all,” Kise waved his hands. “I didn’t think I’d run into you guys here!” He smiled, looking genuinely happy about it.

That smile instantly calmed Aomine’s nerves, and he sighed, plopping down on the seat across Kise. Beside him, Kagami growled like a damn cat, and Tetsu looked like a man truly martyred as he somehow got attacked by fries and ran out of vanilla shake. One thing led to another, and somehow Aomine was clutching his shin after Satsuki had jabbed a sharp-shoed foot at it, and Kise was laughing breathlessly while trying to explain his stalker situation.

When Aomine spotted the shadow of the stalker-bastard outside of the joint, an idea flashed in his head as he somehow managed to snatch some food from Kagami’s inhuman pile, leaning forward to Kise.

“Here, Kise,” he said, reaching across the table. “Say ‘ _aah~’_ ”

Kise absent-mindedly turned. “Hm? ‘ _Aah~’_?” And Aomine fed him a fench fry.

In that moment, Aomine saw a tray head for the ground, and he reacted just in time to grab Tetsu’s new vanilla shake from crashing down with it. Beside him, Kagami sounded like he was choking, and he heard a loud crunch as Tetsu retreated to the edge of his seat, empty vanilla cup crushed, very obviously trying to keep his expression blank. Kise’s face was pink.

“Oh my god,” Momoi gasped. “Oh my god, what did I just witness.”

Kagami was pounding on his chest, looking like he was fucking _dying_ , and Aomine grunted, shoving the shake at him. The redhead swallowed gratefully, clearing his throat.

“Oh my god,” was the first thing he spat out.

Aomine rolled his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

The sky had already turned orange by the time they’d done a few dozen basketball matches at a nearby street court, and by then Tetsu was pretty much out for the count. He and Kagami more or less understood the pretending business, and Kise looked like he was having fun, despite everything, so Aomine didn’t give it much more thought.

“Let’s go again!” Kagami said, hauling Tetsu up onto his back. “Next week!”

Aomine waved a hand as if to dismiss it, but knew that they’d probably play again anyway. He would never say it out loud, but playing with Kagami was damn fun, even out of the Zone, and more so with Tetsu around.

To the side, Satsuki was hopping around Tetsu like a concerned mother, and she called out to him with a smirk. “Dai-chan! I’ll go on ahead! I want to make sure Tetsu-kun gets home alright!”

She gave a wink, and Aomine almost spluttered, squinting at her and her stupid schemes. Kise was lying down on the ground by his feet, so he couldn’t just follow after her to escape, so Satsuki was giggling like an idiot as she walked away.

“Aominecchi, one more match, yeah?”

Aomine looked down at Kise, who was drenched in sweat and yet still had this surging fire in his eyes. “You’re lying on the ground.”

“No shit,” Kise panted, closing his eyes. He heaved himself up to a sitting position, and groaned. He was undoubtedly sore all over, muscles overexerted, and Aomine felt a weird pang of affection for the way that Kise always, _always_ wanted to play, even to the point of ignoring his physical limits. Aomine would always see how Kise loved the sport, probably as much as he did, and it lit a fire in him that had dimmed over the years, blazing back to life every time their eyes would meet in a match.

“Nah, I’m tired,” Aomine huffed, falling to sit on the ground and dropping his head onto Kise’s lap, right under his face. He felt Kise stiffen, and Aomine felt a sting in his chest that made him feel like he wasn’t supposed to be doing what he was doing, and yet couldn’t find it in him to stop. When their eyes met, he was stuck, and he just _stared_.

Those golden eyes stared back, and Aomine felt like he was falling into a daze, trapped in the snare of their locked eyes and closeness. He wasn’t thinking about anything—his head was just full of the image of Kise hovering over him, just like in his dream. And he was probably gonna be damn miserable if it turns out to be _just_ a dream, but he didn’t want to wake up from it just yet.

Without thinking, Aomine’s hand reached out to stroke Kise’s hair, hesitantly, and Kise swallowed.

“I-is he there?” he whispered.

“Nnn,” was all Aomine could mumble, still looking at Kise and playing with the tips of his hair, seeing the light of the setting sun shine that brilliant golden halo around him. He was overwhelmed by the dazzling glow of Kise’s stupid face, and he just laughed.

“What?” Kise stammered.

“I think I get what the magazine people mean by ‘golden boy’,” Aomine said, eyes sparkling at the sight. “You look like the sun.”

Kise just stared at him, frozen, face slowly darkening to pink. Aomine wanted to smile, and laugh, and hug that stupid face close, when suddenly Kise lowered his lips onto Aomine’s forehead, and Aomine blinked.

“Something must be wrong with your head,“ Kise muttered. “So I kissed it to make it get better.”

Aomine felt his cheeks warm, then smirked, ruffling Kise’s hair. “Dumbass, nothing’s wrong with my head.”

And he pulled Kise’s head closer to his, pressing their foreheads together. He closed his eyes, just feeling the soft shift of Kise’s hair against his fingers; the light flutter of their mingling breaths. Aomine moved on instinct, and pressed his lips on the corner of Kise’s mouth, slowly gliding his hand down his cheek. He moved slightly, just twisting enough so he could—

And Aomine’s eyes snapped open, realizing just then that he was way too close to kissing Kise’s lips, head jerking up and colliding right into Kise’s forehead. The thundering _thud_ rang through his skull, making him curse and roll to the side with his hands smacked over his forehead.

“Fuckit, not _again_ ,” Aomine cussed, wincing.

“I swear to god Aominecchi— _metal wall_ , your head is a _metal wall_ ,” Kise griped.

With a groan, Aomine rolled around to stand up, hand still pressed onto his aching forehead. He shook his head and grunted, turning to look at Kise, whose face was scrunched up in pain. “Geez, come on, let’s go,” Aomine grumbled, reaching out his hand. “Before we get any more bruises, dammit.”

Kise fixed him a look, but took his hand. Aomine didn’t want to keep looking at him (lest he get head butted again), so he ruffled his hair and turned to pick up their bags, tossing Kise’s over. Aomine huffed, then strode towards Kise, easily slipping his hand under his and lightly tugging for them to walk.

“He’s not here, though?”

Aomine side-eyed Kise, rubbing at his forehead. “Hm? The stalker bastard? So?”

“S-so?” Kise glanced at their hands, which were apparently linked.

Aomine blinked and then stiffened, mentally cursing himself for acting so impulsively again, and this time in the worst fucking way. He’d been way too confused with telling apart what’s real and what was a dream, especially with Kise around, and now it’s seriously stangling him. “Like I said,” he managed, tense. “So what. Do you want me to do something or something?”

He thought Kise would let go, but his hand was still there, around his. “I’m…confused,” he said. “I don’t get what you’re…getting at.”

“I don’t know okay,” Aomine just blurted, sighing. All he could really think straight about was basketball, dammit. “Maybe it’s because you play basketball, so you handle basketballs a lot, so your hand’s kind of like a basketball? And I like basketball, and, well, handling basketballs, so I guess I mean that I’ve fucking said ‘basketball’ a dozen fucking times now and that I like holding your hand.”

 _Fuck_ , Aomine thought. He expected that talking about basketball would make _some_ sense until his stupid mouth betrayed him at the end. He’s gotta learn to think faster outside of the court, dammit.

“What the heck,” he heard Kise say. “How can my hand be like a basketball?”

Aomine blinked, then put a hand on his face, groaning, almost in relief. “Seriously?” All that Kise registered was basketball?

“No I mean—” Kise raised his other hand, and then stared at it. He seemed to think about something when suddenly he puffed, breaking out in fits of laughter and clutching his stomach. “Ack,” he gasped, tears in his eyes. “Ow, laughing hurts. Gahahaha.”

Aomine just stared at him, feeling a smirk tug at the corners of his lips. “What are you laughing about, moron.”

“Just—” Kise raised his free hand towards him. “Basketball.”

Aomine connected the dots in an instant, and saw a mental picture of Kise’s hand in the shape of a basketball, and he grinned, despite the utter stupidity of it all. He shoved at Kise’s stupid happy face, making him laugh even harder. And it was music to Aomine’s ears, like a small sun glowing to his side, with their hands linked together. He was reminded of their time back in middle school, when they were just stupid kids who did stupid things like head butting and laughing like idiots. He missed it. And it may have been various levels of weird at the moment, but it felt like home.

 

* * *

 

 

Aomine was cursing his serious lack of forethought when he waltzed into Kaijo High the next week, completely forgetting his change of clothes on the day that he actually felt like playing against those Kaijo jerks. Satsuki bore down on him through text and got him to buy a Pocari for Kise, which he was planning on anyway—but the excuse was pretty convenient.

“Satsuki told me to get this for you,” he grumbled, tossing Kise the bottle when he saw him. “Because you’re lending me your clothes, she says.”

“Ah right,” Kise pointed to the bench. “I’ve got a spare jersey you could use. You can change in the locker room—” and Aomine was already stripping off his shirt. “I said _locker room._ ”

Kise pushed him inside and shut the door, and Aomine gave a huff before tugging on his Touou shorts, then holding Kise’s jersey in front of him, staring at it. It was the white Kaijo jersey Kise wore in their match back at Inter-High. His fists tightened around it, remembering the match with intense clarity. Kise’s copy of him. The play style that was completely free, all for basketball. It had made Aomine’s chest throb, as it did now. He gave another sigh and slipped it on, banishing his messed up thoughts. He smacked his cheeks and stepped out, finding Kise in the middle of doing some drills. Aomine just then realized how much he missed seeing this—seeing basketball practice, especially with his former teammates. With Kise. He could just _hear_ Kise’s “Let’s play one-on-one, Aominecchi!” and imagine that idiotic grin stretched over his face.

As he looked on from the side, he settled for watching them for a bit, trying to get his head into basketball (instead of things like _I’m wearing Kise’s jersey_ or _Kise’s moves are getting better_ or _I wanna hold Kise’s hand_ ). When he saw their shooting guard—Moriyama?—release a ball in some unorthodox pose, he raised an eyebrow at the ball’s course—it was definitely going to miss. Without really thinking, he launched a basketball he’d picked up towards it, and it knocked into Moriyama’s ball. It sailed forward to the backboard and bounced once before going in, and Aomine’s ball followed after, all net.

Aomine smirked, and no sooner was he ganged up on by those damn Kaijo jerks for practice or matches and whatnot. He was growling at them, but followed anyway, taking it upon himself to make sure they all fucking miss and lose against him.

And he wouldn’t admit it, but he actually had fun. Just a little. There was a mess of basketballs everywhere in the wake of their messing around, but Aomine relished the sight. Yeah. He missed this. Maybe.

And somehow, after spending the next hour or so trying to play basketball—or more like _wrestle—_ against the Kaijo guys, both Aomine and Kise found themselves sporting identical nosebleeds. They were kicked out to wash off outside, and Aomine felt a wave of nostalgia, seeing the girls (and even some guys) who’d spot Kise just stop and stare. He was popular _everywhere_ , Aomine thought, slightly annoyed that even with a nosebleed, Kise had the nerve to look damn good.

“I knew I hated practice,” Aomine grumbled. “I’m definitely skipping the one tomorrow.”

“You’re not even a student at this _school_ ,” Kise sighed, but he was smirking. “Besides, coach is coming back from the faculty trip in a few days, so I don’t think you can crash randomly anymore. And don’t even think about using my jersey to wipe your nosebleed.”

Aomine froze in the middle of lifting the jersey over his stomach to wipe his nosebleed, glancing at Kise and forgetting that the shirt was his. Kise looked self-conscious about it and smacked Aomine’s hand from the shirt, and Aomine pouted.

“You are such a _child_ ,” Kise muttered, looking away. “Let’s wash up here.”

They came up to the outdoor faucets and started cleaning out their nosebleeds there. Aomine side-eyed Kise beside him, watching how the water coursed through Kise’s lips and continued down his jaw. Aomine gulped, and he wanted to look away, but couldn’t. So instead he splashed water at Kise’s face.

Kise jerked away, flailing. “What the _heck_ was that for??”

“Your face looked stupid,” was all Aomine could say. Though it was true. His face _was_ stupid. And pretty. And annoying.

Kise squinted, and then shot water at Aomine’s face. He grunted, and then splashed at him in return. And it went on all over the place for a while until the Kaijo team captain—Kasamatsu—caught them in the middle of it and beat them up simultaneously, hauling their asses back into the gym. They were already half-soaked and bruised by the time it was their turn to shower, and Aomine was actually thankful that Kaijo was damn well-funded and had pretty good showers—the kinds with tiny rooms instead of just dividers for cubicles. At least there he wouldn’t see Kise’s stupid face. And body. Showering. In the shower.

Aomine wanted to drown himself in the shower waters, but settled for knocking his head into the tiled wall at least once, and then regretting it immediately after. He really has to stop acting without thinking. And stop picturing Kise in practice or beside him or in the showers. With him.

“Fucking _shit_ ,” Aomine grumbled, messily scrubbing at his hair and finishing up faster than usual, escaping the showers before his stupid imagination would trap him there and maybe actually drown him. The others, save for the captain and the shooting guard, had left, and Aomine was pretty much doing well until Kise stepped into the locker room, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

Aomine cursed under his breath and turned sharply away, stuffing his clothes into his bag in a strained effort of fitting them all inside. He felt his head go warm, despite the chill that was tickling his fingertips.

“It’s a bit chilly outside, so wear your blazers to keep warm,” the captain—Kasamatsu—said. Aomine sneezed. “You…don’t have your blazer, do you?”

Aomine scowled, sniffling. “No.”

The two Kaijo seniors sighed, and the shooting guard—Moriyama—pulled out a jacket from his locker and tossed it at Aomine. “Check if that fits you.”

“Why,” Aomine blinked at him.

“Well you gotta keep warm, right?” Moriyama raised an eyebrow, flapping his hand in a way that made Aomine clamp his mouth shut.

Aomine stared, but pulled on the jacket. It was pretty fit, and fell short around his hips and wrists, but it felt warm. It felt comfortable, and something warm swelled in his chest.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Hey, no problem,” Moriyama blurted. “Just return it tomorrow or give it to Kise sometime.”

Aomine nodded and picked up his bag. To one side, Kise was fortunately dressed. At least Aomine didn’t have to worry about seeing more of Kise save for his face (which was the worst part but better than almost all of Kise). He focused on that weird warm feeling that came with putting on Moriyama’s jacket, a tad confused over the new experience. As they left the gym, he nodded at the seniors when they went ahead, and he reached out a hand to hold Kise’s.

“Moriyama, was it?” Aomine said, still focused on the jacket.

“Yeah. Moriyama-senpai,” Kise replied. “I have good senpai, don’t you think?”

“Pretty stuck up on the seniority shit, though,” Aomine scowled, remembering how he was ganged up on and manhandled and bossed around even more times than that asshat Wakamatsu did.

“Yeah, they’re like that,” Kise chuckled, in that same musical way that danced straight to Aomine’s chest. “But they’re good seniors. Kinda like big brothers. They might be strict sometimes, but they take care of us juniors.”

“Yeah…They’re okay. I guess,” Aomine tugged on the jacket again, hand lightly squeezing Kise’s. He thought of how Kise could never shut up about his seniors, and kept getting pummeled by his captain, and looked happy with them. He felt like thanking them for being both behind and in front of Kise: both his support and anchor—and friends (and for being there to stand him up when Aomine couldn’t). It somewhat made Aomine want to pop by practice back in Touou, if only to just steal some of Sakurai’s damn cute food or wrestle with Wakamatsu or hear that ridiculous accent of Imayoshi. Heck, maybe he’d even have a match with them.

Aomine almost grunted. Those Kaijo guys were way too buddy-buddy it was rubbing off on him. He couldn’t help but think that they were the perfect team for Kise.

Aomine glanced at him, sidelong, seeing the gold shine of his hair and eyes reflect the sunlight. He just then realized that they were holding hands, and he raised a brow, thinking, _When the hell did we start holding hands?_

He mentally cursed himself, figuring that it was his stupid impulsive reflex again that was to blame. But Kise didn’t seem to mind, so what the heck? Might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

“Hey, I didn’t get to ask a while ago,” Aomine said. “But did you see him out your window again? And did he follow you around?”

“I saw him this morning yeah,” Kise said grimly. “And I stayed in class for most of the day, so he didn’t really get to follow me until I went to practice.”

Aomine tsked, shifting his eyes. “Is he following us now?”

Kise bit his lip in that way that drove Aomine nuts, making him look away, putting all effort to distracting himself from his pretend lover and fighting down the blood curling up at his cheeks.

“You think he’s suspicious or something?” he tried. “It’s been a _week_.”

“I don’t think he realizes that our head butting is how we show affection.”

“Uh huh. Really.”

Kise bumped shoulders with him, sending these stupid sparks jolting down Aomine’s arm and spine. “I _know_ , okay? It’s not exactly comforting to know that someone’s following me around, but he still hasn’t given up, apparently.”

“I _told_ you he was the persistent type.” Aomine kicked a stray bottle cap on the ground, feeling Kise’s hand on his, and grimacing a smile. “I guess we’re not being convincing enough.”

“Ne, Aominecchi—” Kise suddenly blurt. “Why don’t you come home with me?”

Aomine spun his head to look at him then, feeling his whole body tense, hand tightening around Kise’s. He was _sure_ he was probably dreaming. Maybe. And he didn’t want to let go of it, no matter how damn painful it’d be when he’d wake up.

But Kise squeezed his hand back, and he knew this was real.

“You mean today? Now?” He managed.

Kise turned to look at him, and Aomine probably had a stupid hopeful expression from the way Kise almost staggered back. “Yeah,“ Kise said. “I have an idea on how we might get that stalker to give up.”

 _Right_ , Aomine instantly thought. For that stalker bastard. Everything they were doing was fake. Just an act.

“Well, more like Momoicchi gave me the idea,” Kise continued.

 _Oh fuck_ , was Aomine’s next thought. _Satsuki_. “Damned stupid Satsuki, _shit,_ ” he muttered under his breath, tense.

After a moment, Kise paused. “Ah, this street goes to my appartment. Wanna give it a shot?”

Aomine looked at him, their eyes meeting. “Yeah, why not? If it works we can finally stop the act.” If Satsuki put the damn idea in Kise’s head, then the pretending shit was supposed to end there.

“Alright, let’s go.”

The silence on the way to Kise’s place did nothing to calm Aomine’s tornado of a head, and all he was determined about was not letting go of Kise’s hand. He didn’t want to hold it too tight, or too loosely, lest he lose Kise right there.

The cold he felt bite his hand once Kise had to let go almost _stung_ , and he fought the urge to stuff it in his pocket or reach out to grab Kise’s hand again. The door clicked, and Kise went in first. Aomine followed, lightly closing the door as he slipped out of his shoes. He blinked when Kise moved ahead, seeing how the apartment was pretty spacious and neat.

“Nice place,” he said simply.

“Thanks.” Kise shrugged off his blazer and dumped his things on the couch, moving to the window.

Aomine gently pulled off Moriyama’s jacket and folded it beside Kise’s things. “Wait—” he looked up. “Is he doing the binoculars thing right _now_?”

“Yeah, he’s there,” Kise grimaced, peering through the gap in the curtains.

Aomine moved closer, curious to see the damned binoculars. He was squinting against the light, trying to find the stalker-bastard, leaning forward just inches away from Kise. “So what’s this idea you got from Satsuki?” he blurted, and he weakly realized that he was _way_ too close to Kise.

Kise tugged on his curtain. “Here, move closer and then kiss me while I’m closing the curtain.”

A pause.

“ _What._ ”

Leave it to Kise to fucking mess him up, Aomine thought.

“What?” Kise said, blinking at him. “You just need to get close to me. Then I’ll pull on the curtains to make it look like we’re doing something else behind them.”

Aomine didn’t know if he wanted to fucking strangle Satsuki or hug her. It was a damn ridiculous plan, but it made stupid sense even to Aomine. Or maybe he’d just heard something he’s wanted to fucking do for the longest time now, and from _Kise_ _himself_. He knew it was just supposed to be part of all the pretend shit, and he was probably stupid to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care much about the details of his messed up thoughts.

“Come on, it shouldn’t be too hard,” Kise urged. “After this it should all be over and we can laugh about it later.”

Aomine swallowed, looking at Kise’s stupid expectant face. He gave a small nod, and Kise slowly turned his head away, looking down the window. Aomine’s heart was hammering in his chest, so loud he was sure Kise could hear it, and the last thing he heard himself think was a very determined _Fuck it_ , as he leaned in.

When he was close enough that his breath was bouncing off of Kise’s jaw, Aomine’s eyes fell hooded, and the close proximity made his mind just shut down. And Aomine tilted his head and kissed him.

The feeling surged through him like wildfire, igniting something in Aomine that was purely instinctive. His mind shut down, and his arm slid behind Kise’s head, feeling every bit of Kise that he touched. He wasn’t sure if the racing heartbeat that he felt was his or Kise’s, or what that _clang_ sound to the side was—all he knew was that he’d wanted to do this for the longest time, and it was better than any dream he’s ever had. Aomine savored the feeling of Kise’s soft lips against his, taking them slowly, as if to claim them with every kiss. His hand stroked Kise’s hair, feeling like he was holding something infinitely precious, and he held him there, and didn’t want to let go.

Aomine gave a small gasp when he broke away for a second, feeling his head start to spin. But he wanted more, and leaned in again more ardently, pushing himself closer to feel as much of Kise as he could. His head was starting to swim, light, when he felt a faint push on his chest.

“I said _wait—_!”

Aomine’s eyes snapped open, and he broke away, gasping for air. The realization of what he was doing slowly started to process in Aomine’s head, and he stared at Kise, eyes wide, and he just knew he was screwed.

“Sh-shit,” Aomine breathed.

“A-Aominecchi…” Kise’s voice felt like a stab to the chest.

“Damn,” Aomine muttered, head slumping down to rest on Kise’s shoulder. “Shit, I—” He still wanted more, wanted to get close again and feel that electric sensation sing down his spine—

“Sorry, Aominecchi,” Kise said. Aomine tensed, bracing himself. “I had to breathe.”

Aomine looked up at Kise, brows furrowed with confusion and expectation. Kise looked straight at his eyes, cheeks flushed. “I—uh, I guess we don’t have to keep up the act anymore?”

Aomine matched his stare, searching Kise’s expression. “No,” he said, and he couldn’t help the hand that moved to caress Kise’s cheek. “I—don’t want it to be an act.”

 _There_ , _I fucking said it_ , Aomine thought. There’s no going back now.

“Me too.”

Aomine felt his breath hitch, warmth swelling in his chest it actually _hurt_ , and it felt like he’s been released from the bottom of the ocean that had been trying to get into his lungs.

“I’ve always wanted to do this since that time,” he sighed, unable to take all the emotions making him feel so damn warm and happy.

Kise tilted his head and kissed him, and this time Aomine almost wanted to cry, feeling Kise’s arms wrap around his neck and push them closer. Kise’s tongue brushed across Aomine’s bottom lip, and he groaned, parting his lips and pushing closer, hugging him, running his hands across Kise’s back, feeling like he was falling apart as he hummed against their embrace. He mentally cursed the limits of his lungs when they pulled away from each other, gasping for air. They were both flushed and dazed, and when Kise laid his head in Aomine’s collar, Aomine shuddered, feeling those lightning sparks sing sensation through his nerves, feeling like he was floating.

“I meant what I said, back then,” he breathed, voice raspy and dark.

“That my hand’s like a basketball?”

Aomine huffed, feeling a pang of affection for the idiot he was hugging. “No.”

Kise lifted his head to look at him, and Aomine almost gasped at how fucking stupid his beautiful face was, all flushed and glowing like that. Kise pulled him closer, lips grazing the corner of his mouth, and it was all Aomine could do not to tackle him right there. “That I can’t suck out your basketball powers?”

Aomine couldn’t help it at all—he moved, just enough to brush their lips together. “No.”

“What?”

He knew the words now, and they were so strikingly clear this time that he was happy that he finally got to say them properly. “I think I love you.”

Kise’s eyes widened, searching his expression. “Since—that time? So long ago?”

Aomine rested his forehead on Kise’s, feeling like he was getting lost in all their contact, their closeness. “I think it was…even before that,” he whispered, remembering all his stupid impulses and wanton irrationality around Kise. “But I think I realized it then.”

Kise blnked, then groaned, bringing his hands over his face when a fresh rush of blood colored his cheeks pink, bubbling up all the way to his ears.

“Augh, shit, don’t do that,” Aomine muttered, feeling his chest throb with affection. “It’s fucking _adorable_ , damn.”

“You’re making things _worse_ ,” Kise spluttered, fully red in the face. He was panting, and his eyes were scrunched up, and there were tears dotting the tips of his lashes.

“Are you—are you _crying?_ ” Aomine panicked, tugging at Kise’s hands.

“Shit, _no_ ,” Kise wouldn’t let up, clamping his hands over his eyes. “I’m just—I’m just _really happy_ okay? I feel like a weight’s been lifted off of me.”

Aomine felt his face warm, and this time he was the one spluttering. He couldn’t fucking believe this was happening, and he was so happy it made his heart throb. “Damn,” he gasped, pulling Kise against him into a tight hug. “Damn. Shit, me too. Fuck, I’m so happy right now. Damn.”

Kise made a sound, and Aomine felt his hands move to his back, squeezing him tighter, as if they couldn’t get any closer. They stayed like that for what seemed like _hours_ , just holding each other, feeling the thrumming of their heartbeats and the warm happiness bubbling over their breaths, and Aomine thought he’d burst from emotion.

Aomine shifted, lowering his head to kiss the side of Kise’s neck, then his jaw, then his ear, right where his earring was. Kise shivered, breath hitching, as Aomine trailed kisses from his ear to the corner of his lips, and looked straight at him in that way that sent electricity down Kise’s spine, right before he pressed their lips together. Aomine moved forward, coaxing Kise to step back, and Kise hummed, tilting his head as he brushed his tongue in between Aomine’s lips, drawing out a gasp. He slipped his tongue in between Aomine’s parted lips and threaded his fingers through Aomine’s hair, groaning hoarsely as he pushed closer to him.

Without thinking, Aomine had snaked his hands up under Kise’s shirt, stroking his back, pressing him close by his shoulder blades, and then slowly moving lower, making Kise shudder as Aomine’s warm hands stroked his lower back. Kise responded by kissing him even harder, more passionately, turning so that it was Aomine who had his back to the wall, and it was signal enough for Aomine to continue. He fumbled with Kise’s belt, and he flinched when he felt Kise reach forward and easily slip Aomine’s loose. Kise pulled back from their kiss, and they were panting hard, in a heady daze, hard and warm all over. Aomine vaguely felt Kise unzip his pants, and he put a hand on Kise’s shoulder just as Kise bent to kneel, gingerly pulling Aomine’s boxers lower. Aomine sucked in a breath when Kise wrapped his fingers around him, stroking him slowly before taking him in, tongue gliding around his length as he sucked. A ball of warmth knotted itself in Aomine’s stomach as he tensed, feeling sensation course up his spine every time Kise pulled back, then sucked again, down to the hilt. Aomine cracked his eyes open and saw Kise looking up at him, just before he took him in again, making Aomine gasp, other hand falling to rest on Kise’s hair. Kise hummed, and the vibrations of his throat sent shivers all over Aomine, who felt like he was gonna lose his mind.

“Kise…” he breathed, staring straight into Kise’s golden eyes. “ _Fuck_. _Kise—_ ”

He threw his head back, thumping the wall, and tensed around Kise. Aomine bucked, coming with a gasp, seeing white blaze behind his eyelids. He shuddered at the pleasure of it all, feeling his knees go weak. It felt like forever before the world became clear again, and the next thing he knew, Kise had risen up to kiss him, dazedly, and Aomine tasted himself, tasted Kise, and he slowly sank back into the wall, then to the ground.

They were panting, hoarse and ragged and heated, and Aomine cupped Kise’s head in his hands and licked away the come on his face, making Kise shudder underneath his touch. He easily slipped into Kise’s parted mouth, pushing him back until Aomine was lying on top of Kise, one weak arm slowly coming back to life as he pushed himself to hover over Kise, giving him a long kiss on the mouth before moving to his throat, then collar, peppering kisses as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, as if to cover his skin with warmth as they were gradually exposed. Kise’s neck and chest were flushed pink, and he was panting with dark, glazed eyes, watching Aomine lower himself against his body. He sucked in a breath when Aomine unzipped his pants, swiftly pulling them down along with his underwear. Aomine’s eyes flickered to look at Kise, who propped himself up with an elbow as Aomine gently stroked him, sending shivers all over Kise. He collapsed back on the ground when Aomine suddenly took him in with one go, licking and sucking with growing heat that Kise’s toes curled and his heart felt like it would erupt. His hand flew to Aomine’s head, and he couldn’t escape the moans that came every time Aomine went down on him.

“Ao—mine—cchi—” Kise moaned, eyes screwed shut, back arching with pleasure and mind getting thrown into a loop. He was gasping as Aomine picked up the pace, and Aomine felt himself getting hard just hearing Kise’s voice. It was different from the warmth he felt when he’d hear his laugh, or see his smile. This was something he could only dream about until today, and hearing it— _feeling it—_ right then and there sent sensations coursing through Aomine’s body like he’d never felt before.

“ _Aomine—_ ” Kise gasped, fingers tightening around Aomine’s hair. “W-wait— _ngh—_ Ao…mine—cchi—”

Aomine felt Kise shudder, and he paused, pulling away to suck in a breath. Kise struggled to lift his head to look at him, hands going loose in Aomine’s hair, and Aomine ran his tongue through his length slowly, drawing out another sharp gasp. “Wait—” Kise managed to breathe out. “ _Wait_.”

Aomine raised an eyebrow, looking straight at Kise with dark eyes. Kise moved his hand to stroke Aomine’s cheek, and Aomine pressed his face closer to his palm, humming against Kise in a way that sent vibrations of sensation up his spine. Kise bit his lip, keeping himself from squirming under all the pleasure, and stared straight at Aomine’s eyes. “I want you, Aominecchi.”

Aomine froze, feeling his heart stagger, seeing all the open want in Kise’s expression and feeling it in the way he caressed his cheek. He lifted himself up, and Kise brought his arms around Aomine’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Aomine brought a hand to Kise’s cheek, searching his face and finding only love and affection, making his chest throb all over again. His heart literally skipped a bit when Kise _smiled_ , pressing his cheek closer into Aomine’s palm, and he was sure his heart was gonna give when Kise brought Aomine’s fingers to his lips, licking his index and middle fingers and then taking them into his mouth. Aomine got the idea immediately, grinding against Kise until Kise gasped, panting, and allowed Aomine to pull his hand free. Aomine reached under and found Kise’s opening, circling around it before pressing, his finger sliding in. Kise bit his lip in that damningly hot way that Aomine couldn’t resist, and he worked his fingers against Kise slowly. After a few circles, Aomine drew his finger back, then Kise soon felt the pressure of two fingers slipping inside him.

“Mmh,” Kise hummed, shifting slightly, pushing Aomine’s fingers further in. “Aominecchi…”

Kise almost cried out when Aomine crooked his fingers inside him, sending a flare of sensation shooting up his spine. A moan escaped his lips when Aomine started rubbing circles against his prostate, and Kise rolled his hips reflexively, responding to the pleasure as Aomine plunged deeper, curving his fingers again right where it launched fireworks behind Kise’s eyelids. Kise was panting, almost going over the edge, digging his fingertips into Aomine’s arms, then pulling him closer to raggedly gasp into his ear, “I want you _now_ , Aominecchi.”

Aomine shuddered at Kise’s voice, sending a fresh wave of heat below his stomach. He slowly, almost painstakingly pulled out of Kise, then lowered himself to give him another kiss, distracted and lewd with arousal. He positioned himself at Kise’s entrance, hooking a hand under his thigh and lifting it up, and Kise’s eyes fluttered open, looking straight at Aomine, all expectant and hot that Aomine went down on him again, slipping his tongue inside Kise’s mouth at the same time he pushed in, drawing a gasp that Aomine muffled with his mouth. Aomine shuddered against Kise’s tightness, mouth hot on Kise’s as he slowly entered, groaning as Kise rolled his hips lower to completely take him, down to the hilt.

They both panted against each other, and Aomine was shuddering with sensation, buried inside Kise and feeling the throbbing of their bodies where they were connected. After what felt like forever, Aomine finally, _finally_ moves, drawing back and rocking himself into Kise, making him cry out and arch his back, arms wrapping around Aomine and fingers digging into his back.

Aomine shook, groaning, then pulled back again, this time pounding into Kise, taking him harder, faster. Kise pulled Aomine closer, feeling every inch of him, eventually rolling his hips down to meet Aomine’s every thrust. They found their rhythm in no time, going into sync with each other so perfectly that it didn’t take long for them to soar over the edge, moaning against each other’s lips as they came apart under the waves of pleasure that pulsed through them.

Aomine couldn’t stop himself from collapsing right there, his vision greying out and head feeling like it was floating. He just lied there, breathing hard, feeling the rise and fall of Kise’s chest, the racing beat of his heart, the way he weakly pulled Aomine close for a hug. Until now, Aomine felt like his chest would burst, almost like he’d fucking cry from the sheer happiness of it all, and he might as well have when Kise breathed into his ear: “I love you, Aominecchi.”

Aomine had to bite his lip, eyes scrunched shut as he heaved an arm up to rest beside Kise’s head, pulling himself up to look at him as he stroked his hair. Their eyes met, noses touching, and Aomine gave him a light kiss before telling him, “I love you too. Damn.”

Kise chuckled, rubbing his nose against Aomine’s in this fucking adorable way that made Aomine blush, face cracking into a smile as he lightly bumped their foreheads together, feeling light and happy and overflowing with love—for Kise’s musical laughter, those pink cheeks, his soft golden hair, dazzling smile, warm, tender hands— _everything_. And there, on Kise’s fucking _carpet_ on the floor, as they laughed like idiots against each other, Aomine found his dream, and it was damn weird how everything was messily put together that way, but it felt like home.


End file.
